


Helios

by Misanagi



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanagi/pseuds/Misanagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission gone wrong, Trowa and Quatre spend some time together in the company of a new found friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darthanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darthanne/gifts).



> This is a prize fic for Anne who won one of my Lyric Challenges at LJ. Arcada, don't kill me, yours is in the 'to write' list but it will take some time.
> 
> Thanks and big hugs to Anne, for beta reading this fic.

As the mid morning sun shined lazily behind a puffy white cloud and a soft wind moved the leaves on the floor, a lone figure leaned against a dirty wall. He was hidden by the shadows produced by the buildings surrounding the alley, and was standing so still that only a person looking for him would have been able to see him.

Despite the sun that illuminated the city, the alley was dark. The tall and dirty walls closed the tiny space that already looked full with the boxes and the big trash container resting near the far wall. The alley appeared to be another world, completely separated from the bright city. The figure was standing right between the border of reality and illusion.

He was tall. Broad shoulders and strong arms could be seen behind the black long sleeve shirt he wore. Dark blue jeans covered the long legs and hung loosely around his hips. His eyes were concealed behind a pair of sunglasses and they were scanning the surroundings, aware of every detail.

* * *

Trowa looked at his watch, his hand brushing the hair the wind insisted on getting in his face. The minutes appeared to be passing slowly and every moment seemed to be stretched to make the wait even longer. Waiting wasn't one of his preferable pastimes. In fact he hated waiting, although only a few knew that. He always seemed so cool and collected that people just assumed that he was okay with it, but inside, Trowa Barton was desperate. With every minute, his fingers itched to move but he wouldn't let them, his legs asked to walk but he stayed still, his body pleaded with him to release a sigh of desperation but he wouldn't let it pass his lips.

He was a controlled man. He had learnt since he was very young that being able to control body language and facial expressions was something crucial in the difficult war times they were facing. Of course, a part of his brain was constantly reminding him that the war was over and that it was time to let go of the old ways. Still, he found himself again and again in situations that required his old habits and those were the very things keeping him alive.

Still, he didn't regret his decision to join the Preventers a couple of years after the war was over. He and Quatre had been living a quiet life, or as quiet as it could be when your lover is the CEO of one of the biggest companies on Earth and the colonies. However, they had soon found that that type of life wasn't for them. Quatre was becoming frustrated in his desk job and feeling trapped by all the executives and different people he had to deal with on a daily basis. He had always been a perfect gentleman, polite and gracious, but the blond used his courteous ways in the same way Trowa used his controlled temperament. It was a mask and a mask can only stay on for so long.

While Quatre felt that he was confined to a life that really wasn't for him, Trowa was feeling restless. He had tried many things after the war;- going back to the circus, getting a job, school - but had finally settled with Quatre because at least that way, he would be with the person he loved. But even though their love for each other was deep, it couldn't help the fact that they both felt like they were living borrowed lives. They were soldiers, they had lived through experiences a normal person was spared from, but they had fought and inevitably been conditioned to do that in the future. Trowa still had hopes that after some time, they would be able to settle down but that wouldn't be happening soon.

Trowa lowered his eyes to look at the time again. It had been 4 minutes and thirty four seconds since the last time he had felt the need to do that. Where was Quatre anyway? He was late and it wasn't like Quatre to be late for anything.

For a moment, Trowa's brain started to run free. Thousands of different scenarios, none having a good ending, appeared in his mind. If Trowa could be able to glare at himself he would have. Instead, he banished the unwelcome thoughts from his mind and reminded himself of just who Quatre Winner really was and what he was capable of.

Just then, as if it had been planned by a higher power, Trowa saw from the corner of his eye, something falling from the roof of the five storey building in the back. It landed right in the trash container. The noise of crushed cardboard was followed by some papers falling out of the container, and the mewing of a cat.

Trowa wasted no time and only seconds later he was leaning into the trash container, trying to find out what exactly had happened.

The reason of all the commotion was lying on top of some smashed cardboard boxes and Chinese leftovers. He was wearing dark pants and a navy blue shirt. His eyes were closed and he was moaning as he rubbed the back of his head with his hands. Beside him, a small beige kitten with golden stripes and yellow eyes was looking at the man with curiosity.

Before Trowa could say anything, the kitten moved closer to the man and happily licked his cheek.

Quatre opened his eyes quickly and sat up in a rush. A hiss followed his actions and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to control the pain. The kitten walked slowly to Quatre's lap and sat there.

"I hope you have a good explanation for the dive you just took," said Trowa, glaring daggers at his lover.

Quatre took a deep breath before he focused his eyes on Trowa, giving him a small smile. "It was necessary."

"That's not a valid answer, Quatre," said Trowa as he put his hands in the border of the container and rested his chin on top of them. "Are you alright?"

The blond slowly nodded. "Yeah, my head landed a little more roughly than I would like but I'm fine."

Trowa was still not amused. He kept looking at Quatre and he wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to hug him or kill him right then. "You were lucky. If it wasn't for all those Chinese leftovers you are currently wearing in your hair, you would be dead."

"Give me some credit, Trowa. I did think about it before I jumped."

Trowa raised one eyebrow. Quatre could be a fairly good strategist but he wasn't really known for thinking about himself.

"Stop glaring and help me, Trowa." Quatre moved his hands from behind his head and rested them on top of the kitten that was mewing and looking at him. "You are cute," he said to the kitten and scratched him behind his ears.

As lovely as the scene of Quatre smiling and petting a kitten was, Trowa was busier looking at Quatre's hands and controlling the anger that threatened to explode inside of him. He gave a polite cough and gestured toward Quatre's hands. "Would you mind explaining why, in heavens name, you are wearing handcuffs?" The tone was even and polite. Trowa could see a shiver run through Quatre. That tone always scared his lover because it let him know that he was in trouble.

Quatre raised his eyes from the kitten and smiled innocently at Trowa.

"Don't even try it, Cat. I want the whole explanation, not the sugary version I know you are planning on giving me." After all the years together, Trowa could read Quatre like an open book. He knew his lover too well to be fooled by the façade he used with everyone else. Trowa was worried. Quatre was his lover, his life, and he had the nasty habit of getting himself caught up in dangerous situations and then lying about it. Who did he think he was fooling, anyway? Trowa could clearly see all the signs in Quatre's body: the ruffled hair, the shirt torn at the elbows, the handcuffs with the bruised wrist that showed that he had been in a struggle, and the purple mark already appearing on his chin. Quatre had left the day before to go on a simple routine mission. It wasn't supposed to be complicated at all for someone with his skills but there was enough evidence to conclude that something had gone wrong.

Quatre sighed and lowered his eyes. "Alright but not now. They are still after me so it would be better if we go to the pick up place now. I'll tell you what happened once we get there."

Trowa nodded and grabbed one of Quatre's hands with his own and helped him up. He heard the blond hiss and he quickly looked at him, wanting to know what was wrong. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw Quatre glaring at the kitten that was currently hanging with its little nails from Quatre's shirt.

"I think he wants to go with us," said the blond while he tried to get the cat off his already torn shirt. "You are cute," he stated, looking at the kitten he was holding centimeters away from his face. "But you are dangerous too."

Trowa chuckled but didn't voice the fact that he thought exactly the same of a certain blond who used to pilot a Gundam named Sandrock. Instead, he reached for the kitten and examined it. "It's a she," he said simply.

"How do you know that?" Quatre asked while he used his hands to get as much trash off himself as he could.

"I have extensive experience with cats," Trowa replied and winked at his lover.

Quatre smiled and after getting his foot out of a pizza box, he maneuvered to get out of the container with his hands still cuffed. The blond managed to climb out before he landed ungracefully on the floor. He sighed and looked up at Trowa. "You could have helped me, you know."

Trowa's lip curved a little and he reached down to help Quatre get up. "I'm still mad at you."

The blond ran his hands through his hair and smiled seductively at Trowa. "I bet you can find better ways to punish me," he said, smirking at his lover.

"You know," replied Trowa, smiling smugly. "That line has better effect when you don't have shrimp toast hanging from your shirt." Quatre pouted. "But I'll be willing to ignore the smell since you look so nice with those handcuffs on."

Quatre glared at him. "You try running above five different buildings and jumping from one of them with nothing more that a sore bottom to show for it. Then you can complain about my smell." Trowa knew that if it weren't for the handcuffs, Quatre would be crossing his arms in front of his chest to finish his patented indignant pose. But since he couldn't, the effect of the glare was lost and the blond looked like a brat instead of a dangerous former terrorist.

Trowa smirked more. "I think I'm going to leave the handcuffs on, they suit you."

Quatre diverted his eyes from Trowa's and hung his head as he muttered something.

"Huh?" asked Trowa, looking at Quatre in curiosity.

"It's not like –" The rest of the sentence was lost in another moment of grumbling.

Even if Trowa was starting to get annoyed, he decided to stay silent. He unconsciously petted the kitten and waited patiently for Quatre to repeat himself. He knew words weren't needed and Quatre would talk when he was ready.

Blue-green eyes were suddenly trained on him again and Quatre spoke loud and clearly. "It's not like you can take them off anyway," he said, gesturing to the handcuffs with his head. "Don't you think I would have tried it already? They are jammed."

Trowa's eyes widened. "Explain."

"One of them discovered my lock picks and broke one inside the locking mechanism. Now they won't open."

Trowa knew he should be mad about it. He knew that someone had dared do something like that to his lover and that meant that he should promise to take revenge or something similar. Those thoughts were running in one of the deeper levels of his brain but on the surface, all he could think was that Quatre was handcuffed and there was nothing the blond could do about it. He knew that a mischievous smile was appearing on his face and but he didn't even tried to hide it.

"I knew you would find this funny," accused Quatre, trying his best to look hurt and failing miserably.

"Not funny," clarified Trowa, "amusing."

Quatre rolled his eyes. "Let's go. You can amuse yourself more when we get to the pick up point."

"Is that a promise?"

Quatre took Trowa by the hand. "Come on, you can tease me mercilessly later."

Trowa smiled and nodded. He would be sure to do that, among other things.

* * *

The pickup point was an abandoned wharehouse a couple of blocks away from the alley. It wasn't really big but it was the perfect place to wait for nighttime when they could leave, in the cover of the shadows.

The sun was setting and a few orange rays could be seen through one of the high windows. They only had to wait for a couple more hours before they could go.

"Are you going to tell me what happened now, Cat?"

Quatre was sitting in front of Trowa, leaning on the wall. His knees were against his chest and his cuffed hands were around them. His chin was resting above his knees and he was looking at Trowa from behind his blond bangs. "I guess so," he said, after he sighed.

Trowa crossed his legs and waited for Quatre to begin his explanation. Not a second later he felt the kitty climb on top of his lap and settle her small figure in Trowa's hands.

"Everything was going well. I got inside the compound without problems and managed to hack into the central computer and retrieve the information." Quatre paused for a moment. "It was very easy, I should have listened to my instincts and known that not even a mission as simple as this, could be that easy."

Trowa took one hand from below the kitty and brushed the hair in front of Quatre's eyes. "As much as you wish you could be, nobody is perfect, Cat. We all make mistakes."

"Well I had help this time," said Quatre. The politeness in his voice didn't hide the fact that he was ready to inflict some physical harm on someone. "Peña was a traitor."

Trowa's eyes widened. José Peña had been working with the Preventers for almost a year and he was the one appointed to go under cover on that mission. He had been the supplier of all the data. The mission Quatre had left for the day before had been planned according to that. If Peña was a traitor, Quatre had been in more danger that he had let on.

"They cornered me while I was getting out," Quatre continued. "Peña played the part of the hostage and I fell for it like any beginner. I should have known better." He was angry, Trowa could tell but he wasn't angry at Peña as Trowa had first though. Quatre was angry at himself.

"Cat, you couldn't –"

"No, Trowa," interrupted the blond, raising his chin from his knees and stretching his legs. "You know as well as I do that /I/ should have been able to detect something like that but I failed."

The kitten jumped from Trowa's hand and walked to Quatre. She slowly climbed on his lap and licked his hand twice before closing her eyes and settling down for a nap. Quatre smiled. "Anyway, as soon as I surrendered, Peña pulled out a gun and trained it on me. That's about it. They threw me in a cell, this other guy put on the handcuffs and after a while I climbed out using the vent, got to the roof and ran to the meeting point." Quatre shrugged. "Nothing special."

Trowa knew that Quatre wasn't telling him everything but he could tell that the blond was upset, and decided to wait. He could always pry for more information later. "You smell," he said, effectively changing the topic.

Quatre glared at Trowa. "You say that one more time and I swear you won't be smelling any part of me for over a month."

Trowa chuckled. He got up, gently pushed Quatre away from the wall and sat behind him. His arms were put around his lover and then, Trowa slowly pulled the blond to him. Quatre's head was soon resting on Trowa's chest. He grinned and threw his head back to look at Trowa smiling above him.

"If your stuck up PR people could see you now, they would have a heart attack," said Trowa, while his finger softly traced the bruise already forming on Quatre's chin.

"Good thing they don't have to worry about that anymore," commented Quatre, who was entertaining himself by blowing Trowa's bangs off his face.

"Still, I can just see the headlines. 'The multibillionaire and respected former CEO of Winner Enterprises, Quatre Raberba Winner, was spotted today sweaty, wearing rags, and hanging with a circus run away and a stray cat. We still are searching for the reasons behind this outrageous behavi-"

As much as Trowa loved Quatre, he didn't appreciate the blond taking one of Trowa's bangs and jamming it right into his mouth to shut him up. Quatre, on the other hand appeared to be really amused. His eyes were shining with that mischievous glint Trowa knew so well. Quatre was in a playful mood.

Trowa glared and spit the hair out of his mouth, letting it fall on Quatre's forehead. "That wasn't funny."

Quatre smiled even wider. "You started it," he said. With one swift movement, the blond got up and stood as straight as he could in front of Trowa, his chin raised high and his shoulders back. "Besides, you said I didn't look good."

Trowa recognized the tone Quatre was using. It was the one he used when he was talking business and he was sure that he was going to win. As much as Trowa wanted to keep teasing his lover, he had to admit, even if it was only to himself, that Quatre looked good. Behind all the dirt, the oily hair and the tiredness in his eyes, Quatre was still stunning. There was no way to hide the person he was and Trowa could see that then. They way he stood, moved his hands and even looked at him, was a fateful testimony of the noble in Quatre who couldn't be hidden.

"I've seen better," said Trowa, in a bored tone that he was sure fooled no one.

Quatre moved before Trowa saw what he was doing. He blinked and the next thing he knew, Quatre was on top of him. The blond had him pinned to the floor, his knees restraining Trowa's legs and his cuffed hands pressing down on Trowa's chest.

Quatre was looking at him from above. His face was only inches away from Trowa's and if he moved a little lower, his blond locks would be tickling Trowa's face. Quatre's tongue licked his own upper lip and he softly bit on the lower one before speaking. "Just for that," he whispered, "I won't let you punish me once this is over."

Trowa was trying hard to keep his breathing even and to resist the urge to move his head up and kiss the lips that were teasing him so much. Trowa had lied. He had never seen a better sight than Quatre Winner.

Just as Trowa was getting ready to give up and throw his arms around Quatre's waist, he felt a rough tongue licking his cheek. He turned around to find the kitten with her eyes closed, and engrossed in the task of bathing him.

The pressure in his chest was suddenly gone and Trowa could hear Quatre laughing above him. "I told you she was cute," said Quatre, still laughing.

"And dangerous," muttered Trowa as he got in a sitting position and handed the cat to Quatre.

Quatre moved back to sit in the floor with his legs crossed and petted the cat happily purring in his lap. "She is way too friendly for a cat," he said. "I thought felines weren't very trusting."

Trowa smiled. "Animals have good instincts." He moved beside Quatre and put an arm around the blond's shoulder. Quatre immediately rested his head on Trowa's chest. "It's a safe bet to say we are keeping her?" asked Trowa while he looked at Quatre's fingers tracing circles in the kitten's back.

"I would like that," said the blond without taking his eyes away from the golden kitty.

"She needs a name."

"What about Helios?" asked Quatre, finally raising his gaze to look at Trowa. "He was the mighty, all-seeing god of the Sun and also, by extension, the god of the gift of sight and the measurements of time." Quatre turned his eyes back to the kitten. "She looks bright and shinny enough to fill that description, don't you think?"

Trowa nodded. "Yeah, but Helios was a god and our kitten is a she. Maybe you should pick a goddess, Cat?"

"No," said Quatre smiling. "I like Helios. It's unique, just like she is."

"Yes," repeated Trowa. "Unique."


	2. Chapter 2

Trowa opened his eyes but remained still. The place was dark; there was no electricity so the only light was the one emanating from the half moon outside. He could feel Quatre beside him and even though he wasn't moving, Trowa could tell that he was awake too. They listened for a moment before they both moved swiftly and silently.

There were at least four of them. The intruders might be quiet but Trowa's trained ears could hear their footsteps as if they were beside him and not outside, preparing to enter the warehouse and capture them. Quatre had heard them too. He had his eyes fixated on the door as if he was trying to look through it.

They didn't need words. So many years working together had taught them each other's body language and they could communicate by a simple look. They both took cover behind some boxes and crouched, waiting patiently for the attackers to make their entrance.

The door was kicked open and the place was suddenly filled by the glow of flashlights. Trowa kept his back pressed against the box but his eyes could pick the shadows of the men. 'Five,' he confirmed to himself.

Quatre was looking at him from his hiding place. His eyes were glowing and Trowa couldn't tell if it was a trick of the light or if he was angry. The blond kept looking at Trowa; he moved his lips- talking without voicing what he was trying to say. 'Five of them. Three at the front, two at the back. We need to capture them, not kill them.'

Trowa shook his head but Quatre gave him a stern look, letting him know that it wasn't his lover talking, but the strategist, and that he should do as he was told. Normally Trowa would have argued. Quatre was the tactician but Trowa was still capable of taking care of himself and making his own decisions. It wasn't the best time to argue; they needed a plan and this was not the time to discuss it. He would talk to Quatre later.

'You take the ones at the front," Quatre continued after Trowa nodded. 'I'll take the two at the back. Knock them out so we can have a present for Duo when he comes to pick us up.'

Trowa smirked. He was sure that Duo wasn't going to be happy at all when he saw Quatre. He might be as displeased as Trowa himself but the American had a more blunt way of expressing his disappointment and Trowa was sure that his lover was just trying to mitigate the blow. 'As you wish,' he replied.

Quatre disappeared soundlessly behind the boxes and Trowa waited patiently in his place for the men to come closer. He put the silencer on his gun but put it back in his waistband, hoping that he wouldn't need to use it. He kept his breathing even and low; his eyes were scanning the floor where he could see the shadows of the attackers and his ears were taking in every sound and using them to visualize what could be happening behind him.

It wasn't his mind but his body which knew the correct time to attack. He jumped into the air, doing a double flip and landed above one of the men, knocking him out. The other two who were slightly behind him, didn't have time to react. Trowa kicked the gun out of the hands of one of them as he simultaneously delivered a blow to the back of the neck of the other, rending him unconscious immediately. The last one standing looked terrified; his eyes were wide and he was petrified for a moment but soon his legs decided to work and he turned around, trying to make a run for it. Trowa didn't have to try hard to catch him. In one simple movement, he tackled him to the ground and used two fingers to press at the back of the man's neck, sending him to sleep immediately.

From his position of the floor, Trowa could see Quatre kneeing one of the men, and the other lying on the ground. Taking in consideration the fact that Quatre was still wearing cuffs, he was doing great. Trowa recognized the man on the ground as Peña and glared at him. As he stood up, Trowa noticed something shining in Peña's hand; it was a gun and it was pointing straight at Quatre's back. In less than a second, Trowa had managed to reach Peña and kick the gun out of his hand.

A sharp scream and the breaking of bones was all that was heard.

Trowa looked down at Peña, rage filling his eyes. "Nice to see you again," he said, before he delivered another kick to the man's stomach. Trowa was usually very controlled; he wouldn't use force unless it was necessary but he was feeling very frustrated and the cause of that frustration had just tried to hurt his lover, again! The fact that Peña was supposed to be a coworker, a partner, someone they trusted, made it all worse.

"Trowa, stop!" Quatre's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Trowa raised his head and looked at him. Quatre was standing above the man he had been fighting only minutes ago and the man's gun was in his hand. . Quatre looked at Trowa, a soft expression on his face. Trowa sighed and lowered his head. Sometimes Quatre was still a mystery to him. He knew that his lover was compassionate beyond words and he also knew how contradicting the fact was that he was a trained terrorist. For him, many of the things that Quatre did were normal when others thought the blond was acting crazy. Trowa understood him better than anyone but there were still times when Quatre managed to amaze him. This was one of them.

Trowa pressed the pressure point at Peña's neck and after he was sure the man was unconscious he went to retrieve the guns from all the fallen men.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, when he went to search the man next to Quatre.

"You don't need to apologize," said the blond. "I understand. And believe me, if I had been in your position I probably would have done more than just break his wrist."

Trowa smirked. Yes, Quatre could be very amazing.

* * *

Quatre sat with his back against the wall as he kept watch. Helios was sitting on his lap and he was scratching her ears. He sighed. That whole mission had been a mess when it was supposed to be something he was able to handle. He should have known better.

Everything had been quiet and simple, maybe too quiet and simple for his taste. Even though he had been a Gundam pilot and the mission was a simple one, he had still felt like something was off. He trusted his instincts; they had proven worthy many times before and had helped save his life, and on some occasions, someone else's. Maybe he should have listened to them.

He had managed to get the data needed and had found his way out through the corridors, evading the building personnel and the security cameras. It had been easy; he'd had assignments a lot more complicated. He was sure that any of his men would have done an equally good job but had been told that he was needed for this one since the program protecting the data base was very complicated and needed someone who could think fast and find the backdoors of the program to get the much needed information.

Any of the Gundam pilots would had been qualified for the job but Wufei had been on a mission, Heero had been resting after a long assignment and Duo had been on L2 visiting Hilde and wasn't scheduled to arrive until a day before the mission was supposed to start, and that wouldn't have given him enough time to prepare. That left only two options, Trowa and Quatre. Each one of them had wanted to take it, not only because they actually liked going on missions from time to time but also because they felt better if the other one wasn't exposed to the danger. They had left it to luck and Quatre had won.

The program hadn't been a challenge at all. He had cracked the code in the first thirty seconds and the whole hacking had taken him only the next six minutes. He had really wanted to test his abilities at first, but his initial disappointment had soon been replaced by suspicion. Things weren't supposed to be that simple and indeed, they weren't.

The disk with the information had been secured in the inside pocket of his shirt and he had been almost out; there had been just one more corridor to cross and he would have been at the side door of level A; his exit point. It was too bad they had been expecting him.

There had been five of them and each with a handgun pointed in his direction. Quatre's body had moved before his mind could assess the situation. It had been a reflex. He kept his back to the wall and the moment that he was out of fire range his mind had started processing what was happening, what he had seen and his options.

"We've captured your friend," said a voice coming from the corridor. Quatre had known that; he had seen Peña kneeling on the floor before a man with a pistol pointed at the Preventer's head. "We are going to kill him unless you surrender."

He hadn't had a choice. If Peña hadn't been involved he would have been able to do something else, find an alternative escape route or face the gunmen but he wasn't going to put a comrade's life on the line. Or at least that was what he had thought at the moment. How could he have been so blind?

Quatre had put the gun -that had found its way to his hand as soon as the shooting had begun- on his waistband, raised his hands above his head and slowly walked back to the corridor.

"That was an excellent choice, Preventer," said the man who had spoken before. "Now, if you would be so kind to slowly throw your gun our way and get on your knees, no one will be hurt."

Quatre gradually lowered himself onto his knees; however he kept his eyes fixed on the man at all moments, ready to make a move if the man tried anything dishonorable. He lowered his right arm and grasped the gun, put it on the floor, and slid it their way. One of the men took it while other three ran to him.

He hadn't resisted, but instead allowed them to push him to the floor, press his face on the ground, and handcuff his hands behind his back. He stayed still while they searched him and took his spare gun and knife, and he didn't cry out when one of them pulled him back to his knees by his hair. However, what he had seen then had been enough to make him narrow his eyes and glare at the man in front of him in a way he hadn't done in a long time.

"Don't look at me like that, Winner," said Peña, pointing a gun towards Quatre. "Money can make anyone change loyalties."

Quatre remained silent but the way he had been looking at Peña had said enough. He had been betrayed and he was going to make sure that Peña would pay.

He had been pulled to his feet, one man standing at each side of him. The man that had spoken to him, and who appeared to be the leader, walked closer to Quatre but stood at a safe distance. "Peña tells me you are quite dangerous and that I should be careful around you," he said. "But you really don't look like it."

Quatre fought the urge to tell the man just what he was capable of, but he decided against it. It was better if they thought that he was harmless. No one working at Preventers' knew that their top five agents had been Gundam pilots and Quatre wasn't going to disclose that information to the enemy.

The barrel of a gun was pressed at the back of Quatre's neck and a raspy voice spoke behind him. "One move and you are history."

As much as Quatre wanted to roll his eyes at the cliché line picked up from any old TV movie, he stayed silent and attempted to look even a bit startled. After so many times of having had a gun aimed at him, he felt as though the gesture had really lost its edge.

"I suggest you stay still, Preventer Winner," said the leader. "You have three guns aimed at you and I can tell you that my men won't hesitate in shooting."

'The man behind you would,' thought Quatre. 'His hand is slightly shaking and he is not making eye contact. He has never killed before and he is not ready to.' Deciding not to voice his thoughts, Quatre spoke for the first time. "I'm afraid you have a slight advantage over me. You seem to know who I am but I have yet to learn your name." He ignored the fact that this wasn't the only disadvantage.

"You can call me Avery," replied the leader as he approached Quatre. Instead of searching him –as Quatre had thought he would – Avery circled and stood behind him. Soon Quatre felt Avery's fingers searching the inside of his shirt cuffs; he had been looking for the lock picks. And he had found them.

"Peña said you taught him that was the best place to hide them," commented Avery, a note of amusement in his voice. "That was kind of you, Preventer." Quatre heard the noise of metal breaking and didn't' even have to take a guess to know that Avery had just jammed the lock.

"Peña said you are very slippery. This is just precaution," announced Avery, reappearing in front of Quatre. "Bring him," he ordered the other men, before turning around and starting to walk.

Quatre was pushed forward; he could still feel the gun on his back. The men on his side gripped his arms and pulled him to their destination. They were trying to make sure that he wouldn't be able to escape. Quatre didn't resist, knowing that he would have time to escape later.

They had taken him to level six, section D, east corner, right above the technician's office. Quatre had repressed a smile when he had noticed how close to the roof he had been. Those people really needed to learn to plan better.

The door was made of steel and was sealed by a big old iron lock situated on the outside of the cell. Avery produced a key from his pocket and opened the door. "Welcome to your new home, Preventer Winner," he said, just before Quatre was roughly pushed inside the cell.

With his hands cuffed behind his back, Quatre hadn't been able to stop the fall. He tried to turn on his shoulder so that his face wouldn't collide with the floor but it had been way too late. Quatre heard the thud before he felt the sharp pain on his chin. He managed not to groan and closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the worst of the pain to go away. The steel door closing silenced the laughter outside.

Darkness filled the room but at that precise moment, Quatre didn't care. He kept his eyes closed and waited a few moments on the floor. After a few minutes, his mind was finally able to focus on something, or rather someone, else. He rolled on his back and managed to get himself into a sitting position. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times and concluded that there was nothing broken. Sure that he was going to have a pretty big bruise in the morning, Quatre's mind was busy planning ways of explaining it to Trowa.

Quatre interrupted that line of thought and reminded himself that he had other things to focus on. After opening his eyes and waiting to get used to the darkness of the room, Quatre looked around. It was a ten square meter cell. The walls were made of bricks and there was only one door. Quatre smiled; he had found his escape route. The air came into the room by a small vent located on the northeast corner, just below the roof. The distance between the floor and the ceiling was approximately three and a half meters. An impossible climb for some, and challenge for him.

A groan escaped Quatre's lips as he lay on his back, his wrists crushed beneath his body weight. He planted his feet on the floor and pushed his butt up. One leg at a time, he moved his feet closer to his butt so that his ass rested on his heels. Then, in one swift movement, he pushed his legs back so that they were in the air and his weight was supported by his head and upper back. Quatre had to make himself focus on the task at hand and ignore all the pleasant memories involving a green eyed and flexible ex Gundam pilot that suddenly jumped in his head. After some struggling, he managed to move his cuffed hands below his butt. His back was pressed again on the floor but his hands were now below his knees. Quatre exhaled a breath of triumph and slowly untangled his arms from his legs. Yes, that had definitely brought back some good memories.

With his hands then cuffed in front of him, Quatre was able to attempt to climb the wall and reach the vent on the top, which was big enough for him to crawl inside. He had memorized the site map and knew that the vents would eventually lead him to the roof. It was going to be a challenging climb but he thought that he could use the practice. He had to make sure that he wasn't getting rusty at his old age; he wasn't fifteen anymore.

The fact that the vent had been located in a corner made things easier for him. The close walls could be used to his advantage. Quatre placed his cuffed hands on the right wall. He moved his feet to the left until they had hit the wall and then stopped for a moment. It had been a long time since he had tried something like this and he just hoped that his body was still strong enough to take the strain he planned to put on his muscles. After pressing the palms of his hands on the brinks, Quatre raised his left foot about fifty centimeters and pressed the heel of the shoe against the left wall.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered to himself, repeating the process with his other foot. He applied force to both his hands and feet to keep himself from falling. After making sure that his boots had a strong hold on the brick wall, Quatre moved up his right hand, as much as the short chain of the cuffs allowed, and then he did the same thing with the left. Little by little he managed to raise his hands another fifty centimeters up the wall and then he repeated the process with his feet.

It was been a slow and strenuous climb but by the time Quatre had been almost two meters up, his foot slipped and he fell to the floor. He managed to land in his hands and knees, which was a lot better than his face. His hands were scraped with the wall but he ignored the sting and tried again to climb up the wall. He fell two more times before managing to reach the vent located in the left wall, just above his feet. After a few awkward kicks, he managed to push the grating back, losing his fragile balance in the process, and falling once again to the ground

If it wasn't for the fact that he had known that he didn't have a lot of time, Quatre would have happily stayed on the floor. His whole body hurt and he was sure that his knees were already turning a purple color. With a sigh, Quatre got up again and climbed up the walls one more time. However, this time, he put his hands on the left wall and his feet on the right. When he reached the vent, he griped the edge with his fingers and after making sure that he wasn't going to fall again, let his feet slip from the wall, so that he hung only by his hands.

It was a good thing that being a Gundam pilot required upper body strength or Quatre wouldn't have been able to use his arms to drag his body into the vent. The space inside the vent wasn't too small. He had enough room to crawl in his hands and knees so he was able to move relatively fast.

The roof was close enough and, since Quatre had been already in the last level of the building, he didn't need to climb any more, which was a great relief. The grating at the end of the vent was easily removed and he climbed out of it. He blinked a few times, waiting for his eyes to get adjusted to the bright light outside, before dashing for the fire escape.

The sound of a door opening and the cocking of a gun made him stop. Quatre sighed and turned around slowly to find Avery with a gun in his hand and walking slowly towards him.

"I should have listened to what Peña said," commented Avery as he moved closer to Quatre. "You really are more than you seem."

Quatre just glared at the man. He hadn't climbed up that wall four times just to get caught when he had been so close to escaping. However, this time, things were even.

"I suggest you give up now. I really don't want to have to kill you." Standing very close to Quatre, Avery had forgotten to keep his distance and that had been a mistake he would pay for. "Turn around and do it slowly."

Quatre glared at the man one more time before beginning to turn around. Nevertheless, Quatre hadn't planned on letting Avery capture him again. Instead of following the order, in one swift movement he raised his cuffed hands, twisted the chain as much as he could and used his left elbow to hit Avery straight in the neck.

Avery dropped the gun and fell on his knees. He moved his hands instinctively to his neck as he tried to breathe. Quatre had been about to get the gun and run when he heard footsteps coming from the stairs. They had known where he was and there had been, at least, four men coming for him. He decided to forget the gun and instead run as fast as he could to the edge of the building. There had been another one in front of it. He hadn't even stopped before jumping the two meters that separated one building from the other. As he had run to the third building he had been able to hear screams and shots behind him but he was already too far away. A few buildings more and he had reached his destination, where Trowa was waiting for him.

Quatre brushed the hair out of his eyes, after waking from his daydream; looking at Peña, lying on the floor, unconscious and with his wrist bending at an unnatural angle, he allowed a small smile to reach his face. He had kept his promise.

Suddenly, a soft moan came from Peña... The men were starting to move and it was just a matter of time before they were conscious again. He petted Helios one more time before he set her on the floor and went to call Trowa.

* * *

Trowa moved from his spot against the wall and walked over to the corner and their attackers. Since Trowa was carrying only one pair of cuffs, he had used those on the man Quatre had called Avery, and they had used some rope they had found in the warehouse for the rest.

After they had taken care of their prisoners, Quatre and Trowa had remained silent, practically ignoring each other. Trowa still wanted to use Peña as a punching bag but he had managed to remain in control. Quatre, on the other hand, was looking thoughtful and very distracted. He just sat in front of the men, keeping watch silently as he petted Helios. Trowa could tell that there was something bothering him but it wasn't the time to ask.

At least three of the men were definitely waking up - Peña, Avery and the one Trowa had put to sleep instead of knocking him out. The first thing to come out of Peña's mouth was a moan. Trowa had broken his wrist with the kick and the hand was bending in an unnatural angle. Still, Trowa felt no remorse.

"The pick up van should be here soon. We can give you something for the pain then," said Quatre, in a cold voice that contradicted the kind words he was saying.

"Please," asked Peña pathetically, "untie me."

"You are not worthy of our trust," answered Quatre. "You made the choice and now we have to treat you as an enemy."

Peña whimpered. "Please, Preventer Winner. I'm sorry. I know you are a forgiving man. Please, the ropes are hurting me."

"Don't even try it, Peña," warned Trowa. "You've lost every right to talk to him that way. He is no longer your friend or your comrade and neither am I. You betrayed us all; you put at risk a Preventer operation and leaked information to the enemy. You are nothing more than a traitor and you are going to be treated as such."

"I didn't me-"

"Another word out of you and I wont be able to keep myself from hitting you again," said Trowa. "But you do know what your worst mistake was, don't you? You messed with Quatre."

"Trowa, calm down."

"No, Quatre. I've managed to stay calm this long but there is a limit to everything. We can talk later but if the traitor tries to guilt you one more time into helping him, I might just break his other wrist."

Quatre nodded and Trowa took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He was angry, not only at Peña but at Quatre too. Yes, he had met his lover in the war, he'd had to watch him go to battle and accept the fact that Quatre was also a soldier and was ready to die. They might have not been lovers during the war -they were too young, even if they had never been kids- but he had cared about the Sandrock pilot from the moment he met him.

Since his time with the mercenaries, Trowa had been alone. He had forgotten what it was like to care for someone but Quatre had reminded him of that.

Trowa loved Quatre for the person he was, and that included the Gundam pilot. While helping Quatre into Sandrock for that last battle of the war, Trowa had bitten his lip. He had watched the blond face danger countless times and he knew, when they had decided to become lovers, that danger was always going to be a part of their lives. However, that didn't mean that he was okay with the idea of his lover being hurt. They had both put their lives on the line but no matter how much they tried to be okay with it, they weren't.

Trowa couldn't help but worry but that didn't mean that he didn't trust Quatre. On the contrary, he trusted Quatre with /his/ life; he just didn't trust him with his own. Quatre had a nasty habit of getting himself into dangerous situations. Trowa knew that his lover didn't do it on purpose but he couldn't help but wonder if Quatre had been taking care of himself properly.

A hard chuckle brought Trowa back to reality. "Who would have thought that the Preventer was a queer? And that he has his boyfriend with him too," said Avery, in a mocking tone.

"The last time I saw you, you weren't chuckling like that," commented Quatre, sounding bored. "If I remember correctly you had just gotten beaten up by a queer wearing handcuffs."

Avery glared at Quatre. "This isn't over yet, Preventer Winner."

Quatre nodded once and Trowa could tell that he was accepting the challenge as the gentleman he was. Maybe Quatre had won that round but there was still the possibility of a next one. There was something about Avery that made Trowa uneasy and the way Quatre was acting told him that his lover agreed. Trowa leaned against the wall with his arms crossed above his chest. A talk with Quatre was definitely needed.

The next minutes were spent in silence. Every time one of the captives tried to move or talk, Trowa would glare at them and that was enough to keep them quiet. The only sound heard was the purr of Helios, the whimpers of Peña, and the uneven breathing of the rest of the men.

They didn't have to wait long. Trowa soon heard the van approaching. Moments later a light coming from outside illuminated the place, blinking three times. That was the sign. Trowa took a flashlight and did the same thing to show that everything was fine.

"Rise and shine!" Duo's voice could be heard from the door. "Mom has come to take you..."

The rest of the sentence was lost as Duo noticed the scene in front of him. "I guess there were some complications?" he asked, gesturing towards the captives. His voice had lost the playful tone and was now serious as he took in the situation. "Mind telling me what Peña is doing there?"

"He betrayed Quatre." Trowa's words sounded cold but he knew that Duo could tell that he was just trying to hide his anger. He had also deliberately said 'Quatre' instead of 'us' because he knew that Duo would take it personally that way, and Peña wasn't his favorite person right now.

"I see," said Duo. "And that has something to do with why is Quatre in handcuffs?"

Trowa just nodded.

"Sarah, please send a couple of men in to handle some prisoners. Put them in the second vehicle and take them straight to the interrogation room," said Duo into his com link. "All of them, no matter what their medical status."

"Duo, I really don't think-"

"Quatre, I'm not in the mood right now. You look like you were thrown off a building so this, as sure as hell, isn't the time to plead for anyone's health unless it's your own." Trowa could tell that Duo was mad. The way his eyes were shining and the tone of his voice said as much. For a moment, Trowa felt sorry for his lover, but after looking at his bruised chin and cuffed hands one more time he pushed that thought away.

 

"At least give him some painkillers, Duo," said Quatre as two Preventers entered the room to take the prisoners. "You can glare at me later but he is in pain."

Duo didn't answer but he nodded to the Preventer taking Peña away. "Let's go," he said to Quatre. "We need to get you to the medical bay."

Quatre nodded and picked up Helios from the floor.

"Is that yours?" asked Duo, gesturing to the cat, some of the coldness in his voice gone.

"Her name is Helios," answer Quatre. "She'll be coming home with us."

Duo smiled. "I thought so," he said and threw an arm around Quatre's shoulder. "She is cute."

Trowa smiled and hugged Quatre from the other side. "And dangerous."

\- The End -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the sequel: [Rain](http://archiveofourown.org/works/76981)


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